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beauties of those times, a charming una idea'd sameness of physiognomy, that is now lost in the female face."
“ Mental cultivation most diversifies the countenance,” replied the Commodore. “ In barbarous nations there is but one physiognomy for a tribe: where there is little intellect, there can be but little variety of expression.”
“ I hate intellect in women,' said De Vere; " and what is most delicious in the harem of that happy satrap, Charles, is, that they all look such pretty idiots, $0 fond and foolish, as if they were of that sect which once flourished in Spain, the Embevecidos, whose life and faith were made up of love.".
6 Love, indeed! love! when hearts were purchased with French ribbons; and perfumed gloves went on successful embassies to ladies' affections. Oh! trust me, your royal satraps have more of laziness than of love in their engagements; and nothing is further from
passion than their idle saunterings in ladies' chambers."
“ 'Tis all abomination! all vanity and vexation of spirit !” said Mrs. Magillicuddy, interrupting the Commodore, indignantly. “ I didn't think so once, God help me! For I walked in utter darkness till I was thirty; and did not wrestle with the ould one till I was forty good. My conversion made a a great noise far and near. The bishop's lady came to me, and said
Mr. De Vere was again retreating, when the old woman hobbled to a door at the further end of the apartment, and throwing it open, said, “ There, that's the drawing-room;" then flinging herself upon a broken chair, the only article of furniture in the room, except an antique japanned chest, she continued, pointing to two pictures.--" There, gentlemen, there are the pictures of the two brothers ; that is half brothers by blood, but whole brothers in iniquity.
I always took the dark one in robes to be the Prince of Orange, and the redheaded one to be the Pretender, till Miss Crawley, when she came here for the Indy cabinet, informed me that they were the two last Lord Fitzadelms, the Dhu and the Ruadg, the black and the red. Well, that's all that remains of them now: the ould one had a fine lob of them both. He that would have wrestled for their salvation was not walking this benighted country when they were in it; and so they were left to go to the devil their own way, why!”
During this charitable speech the eyes of the travellers were fixed upon the pictures, pointed out by their pious Cicerone. The elder brother stood in his parliamentary robes, by a table, on which his coronet was placed : his countenance expressed haughtiness, something mingled with indecision; and traces of wild ill-regulated passions, contrasted with a look of feebleness and
dependence, gave indication of a mind endowed with some natural strength of character, but which had been spoiled by circumstances and education ; as if the natural force, which might have gone to the strengthening of his intellect, served but to irritate his passions and temper. He was of a dark and saturnine complexion; but intemperance had so bloated his features, and impurpled his naturally, sallow hue, that the beauty, for which he had once been celebrated, even the painter's art could scarcely recal. This picture was done, by the date, above thirty years back : the name of the artist was so obscure, and the execution so inferior, that it was probably the effort of some itinerant painter, who worked by the square foot.
The younger brother was a true Geraldine in colouring and feature; the light curled golden hair, the full blue eye, and fair complexion, which distinguish
ed almost every branch of that illustrious family, particularly the southern Geraldines: but there was an expression of licentiousness and cunning mingled in the countenance of Gerald Fitzadelm, which belonged not to the physiognomy of his family: he had a foreign air, was habited in a Venetian domino, and held a black mask so near his face, that he seemed but in the very act of removing it: the picture was dated Venice; the name of the artist was Italian; and a label hanging from it, with orders how it was to be laid in the case, which was placed near it, indicated that it was about to be removed. On the case, in large letters, was painted“ For the most noble the Marchioness Dowager of Dunore, Dunore Castle."
Aye," said Mrs. Magillicuddy, reading this address,“
aye, to the Marchioness Dowager: well, careful as she is of the picture, its little she valued the reality, why! Its from her, they